Chapter 7

“Truly,” Xiao Yu said sincerely, “It’s hard to find someone like this, cough, I mean, it’s rare to meet a person like this.”

Su Zhen felt he wasn’t lying, but a few thoughts flickered through her mind. “But the first time you saw me, you acted as if…”

Did he recognize her?

No.

Su Zhen genuinely felt that his gaze was not that of someone seeing an old acquaintance or treating her as anyone special.

That only made it all the more puzzling.

Xiao Yu spoke candidly, “That’s because I already knew you. The moment I recognized you, I was very excited.”

Su Zhen thought it over. Among the young disciples of the Tianyuan Sect today, if one counted those with the best talent and aptitude, her name would certainly be mentioned.

Though it was somewhat plausible, even if he heard about the Immortal Lord disciples during conversations with the sect leader or others, it would only be casual mention.

How much more could there be?

But if it were the elders of Lingxiao Peak, they weren’t exactly tight-lipped.

Still, given his age, what kind of people hadn’t he met? What was there to be so excited about?

“…Right, I’ll go prepare the gift first. See you in a couple of days.”

Xiao Yu quickly finished speaking, giving her no chance to refuse, and vanished from the spot.

Su Zhen snapped back to attention and stood there for a moment before heading straight back to her quarters. She set up multiple layers of barriers, heavily sealing the courtyard, and then closed herself off to cultivate in peace.

Having skill is the key; no matter what you say, it’s all in vain if you lack ability—this was a truth she had realized in her previous life.

If she were stronger, perhaps she could have escaped the ruins of Feiyuan City, avoiding being brought back for execution, and the real culprit’s scheme would not have succeeded.

By the time she properly emerged from seclusion, more than half a month had passed.

She tried many spells she was familiar with from her past life, some of which were quite dangerous for a Nascent Soul stage cultivator, yet she successfully performed them.

She even advanced to the second level of Nascent Soul.

Logically, moving from the first to the second level of Nascent Soul within one or two years is considered extremely fast; ten or twenty years is not slow.

Su Zhen felt somewhat comforted.

However, compared to her strength before death, her current cultivation was still not something to be happy about.

After all, without sufficient strength, many things are difficult—she couldn’t seek revenge nor leave the sect at will.

But—

Some cultivators are driven by deep hatred and grudges, fueling their quest for the Dao through obsession, but she had never walked that path.

Like mortals, conflicts among cultivators never cease.

Whatever the reason, losing simply means lacking strength or luck.

Before becoming a demonic cultivator in her past life, she understood this truth well; after spending some time in the demon realm, she understood it even more deeply.

She wasn’t exactly a good person and couldn’t guarantee that all she had done was righteous; if one day she fell, it would be due to her own weakness.

Of course, the scoundrel who framed her for the slaughter of the city must die.

But her resentment over that was limited.

Today, someone might kill her to help Liu Yunyao; tomorrow, someone might try to devour her primordial spirit.

Unless she hid away in seclusion every day, whenever she ventured out for experience, dangers would inevitably arise.

Since she had the chance to live again, whether it was revenge or settling past grievances, she would do what she could; it couldn’t be her entire life.

Otherwise, it would be too dull.

Su Zhen pushed open the door and stepped into the courtyard.

She didn’t need to enter deep seclusion for the time being; just staying in the mountains to pass the days would naturally strengthen her primordial spirit with the flow of spiritual energy.

After a while, once her primordial spirit stabilized further and she could perform more of those past spells, she would dare to go out and do other things.

Summer had fully arrived in the Eastern Domain.

Tianyuan Mountain was lush and green, petals drifting in the breeze; most of the courtyard was bathed in the dense shade of trees. Standing beneath one, she pulled out a jade slip and browsed through the chaotic flood of messages.

“East of Xiaocang Mountain, clearing out demons, candidates must be above Golden Core stage.”

“Southwest of Bronze Mountain, exorcising monsters, candidates must be Foundation Establishment or above.”

“Purchasing twenty jin of premium Black Gold Crystal Ore, price negotiable.”

“Selling a pair of Moonlit Butterfly Demon wings.”

“…Who’s selling demon materials? Is it from our Weiyun Peak? Have the noxious miasmas been fully cleared? Has anyone checked with me or my senior sister? Seller of the wings, give your name.”

“Selling wings is your master.”

“…Sorry, Master.”

The open message board within Weiyun Peak was always a chaotic mess like this.

Su Zhen’s expression remained unchanged as she swiped through.

Many people had messaged her privately; most in the past few days congratulated her on her advancement. Some were acquaintances, others less so.

Su Zhen scrolled for a while and selectively replied to a few before a noise came from outside.

She opened the courtyard door and was taken aback.

Floating in midair outside was an ornate wooden food box with three tiers.

The wood was smooth and warm, a dark red with an orange glow, like the evening clouds at sunset, inlaid with mother-of-pearl and gold lacquer—exquisitely elegant.

A small white bird, made from countless pieces of paper patched together, fluttered its wings as it hovered in the air.

Its two claws grasped the handle of the food box firmly, carrying an object many times larger than itself.

Su Zhen reached out and took the box, inspecting it carefully. There was no message on it.

“For me? You didn’t send it to the wrong person?”

The little bird nodded happily, then slowly flew over and hovered beside her.

Su Zhen: “…”

She tapped the wood of the box with her fingertip, confirming it was made from a rare spiritual plant from the demon realm’s Fanyun Ridge, called Yi Wood—an essential material for high-level spirit gathering arrays.

It was one of the rarest materials for such arrays.

In the auction markets for cultivators, it was worth a fortune.

Firstly, it had to be sourced from deep within the demon realm; secondly, Yi Wood grew slowly and was scarce, so even if one went, finding the right place was uncertain.

Therefore, many sects lacking strength had no choice but to build only intermediate spirit gathering arrays within their mountain gates.

Su Zhen actually owned two hairpins made of Yi Wood. She liked the tactile feel of this spirit wood so much that she once personally raided some from the Fanyun Ridge lord.

But that was two hundred years later.

—Who could be so wealthy as to use this material to make a food box?

Su Zhen looked at the little bird beside her. “So this is what you wanted to send me? I thought you’d come in person.”

The words slipped out naturally, and she immediately regretted it, as it sounded like speaking to an acquaintance.

“I don’t even know if you’re in the mood to see me?”

A calm, magnetic voice suddenly sounded nearby.

Su Zhen looked up.

A tall youth with black hair and blue eyes stood at the foot of the steps. He wore a dark patterned brocade robe tailored to fit perfectly, emphasizing broad shoulders and long legs, exuding a majestic and heroic air.

He lifted his chin slightly, his expression somewhat nervous and uneasy, but as he met her gaze, a smile gradually blossomed in his eyes.

“Do you want to open it and see?”

“…Alright.”

Su Zhen turned slightly, catching the little paper bird hovering in midair, and said, “Please, senior, come in and have a seat.”

She turned and walked into the courtyard.

The courtyard was secluded, far from the bustling main mountain paths; as a result, both inside and outside the walls, vegetation flourished.

Several giant trees towered skyward; the courtyard was a sea of verdant green, the wind sweeping through like a living screen of foliage, casting large patches of shadow on the stone slabs beneath.

In the center stood a thousand-year-old blue paulownia tree, its canopy dozens of zhangs above the ground, lush and broad like a pavilion. Beneath it sat a round stone table with four inset circular seats.

Su Zhen placed the food box on the table and slowly opened it.

The first tier held cold, soft jelly cakes. White glutinous rice blocks were drizzled with bright red sugar syrup, surrounded by a circle of crystalline ice cubes, from which wisps of cool air spread.

Beneath the plate holding the jelly cakes was a note.

Su Zhen took it out and read aloud, “No poison, eat with peace of mind.”

She looked at Xiao Yu.

He stood across the table, speaking with conviction, “What if I can’t see you? This is a backup plan.”

Su Zhen could only laugh helplessly.

The handwriting was half cursive, half regular script; the strokes were vigorous yet graceful, like dragons and phoenixes dancing, sharp as startled clouds.

Below was a small line of text:

—Unless you don’t want to eat it, then don’t.

Su Zhen truly didn’t know what to say.

For some reason, she felt like laughing.

To hide this emotion, she quickly lowered her head and pinched a piece of ice.

Despite touching her skin, the ice showed no sign of melting. It was obviously condensed from spiritual energy, yet it was difficult to detect any spiritual aura.

Either the technique was exquisite, or this person’s spiritual energy was so pure that no aura leaked after forming the physical object.

—One must know that objects formed from spiritual energy rarely maintain shape long after leaving their cultivator; they usually dissipate quickly.

Moreover, ice tends to melt quickly in the scorching summer heat.

Su Zhen held the small, crystal-clear ice cube in her palm and suddenly felt something subtle.

As a cultivator at her level, she was no longer affected by natural weather, but she could still clearly perceive temperature, though she felt no discomfort.

The coolness spread through her hand, with fine, delicate chills rising.

She picked up the white porcelain, gold-painted round spoon beside her, scooped a piece, and tasted it.

Indeed, it was fragrant, sweet, and refreshing, with a richer sweetness than ordinary jelly cake.

Others might find it overly sweet, but to her, it was just right.

Su Zhen trusted her own unique constitution was immune to poison. Besides, if Xiao Yu truly intended harm, he wouldn’t resort to such a roundabout method.

“How is it?”

Xiao Yu seemed a little nervous. “Want to return it?”

Su Zhen had just finished the last spoonful and responded again, speechless, “Who returns food after eating it? The taste is actually quite good.”

Xiao Yu seemed relieved. “That’s good then.”

Su Zhen’s appraisal was actually conservative.

To be fair, this dessert was already excellent; she couldn’t imagine any shop making it better.

Since her death until now, she hadn’t eaten ordinary food for some time.

Cultivators at the Foundation Establishment stage practice complete fasting, stopping normal metabolism; from then on, they no longer need to eat to sustain themselves. Even if food entered their stomachs, it would be dissolved by spiritual energy.

Of course, for the sake of taste, many cultivators still occasionally enjoyed delicacies after fasting—Su Zhen did so sometimes, though rarely.

This dessert was delicious even on its own, and having abstained from food for years, eating it now was especially satisfying.

After finishing the first tier, she opened the second.

It was neatly arranged with large plates of mung bean cakes, red bean cakes, and osmanthus cakes. Each was adorable in shape, with exquisite patterns, bursting with aroma upon biting, and the fillings were sweet.

The third tier contained a strange kind of pastry.

It was a long cylindrical cake laid horizontally on a plate, its color and texture resembling an egg roll, with a faint milky scent. On top were interwoven blue and red berries, and inside were chunks of bright yellow pomelo.

Beside the plate was a delicate white porcelain knife, seemingly meant for cutting the cake, and next to it a small three-pronged fork.

Xiao Yu looked even more nervous. “If you’re not used to using knife and fork, you can keep using the spoon.”

Su Zhen was indifferent but curious. She picked up the cutlery and tried slicing a piece.

The cake was very soft; after cutting, white oily cream flowed out.

“What is this?”

“Cake… that’s cream? Maybe not very authentic, but the taste should be alright, and it’s all natural, no additives.”

“Senior, your words are really profound.”

“Cough, I mean, why don’t you try it first?”

“…”

She couldn’t resist and ate a piece. The egg roll melted instantly in her mouth, sweet but not greasy, with an excellent texture and a lingering milky fragrance.

Su Zhen savored it carefully and exclaimed, “So fragrant and sweet.”

Xiao Yu was slightly stunned and looked across the table.

The young woman sat beneath the dappled shade, golden light filtering through the leaves, quietly falling upon her face.

Her hair was half pinned up, dark as a crow’s wing; a jade hairpin lay casually, adding a touch of languid elegance.

Su Zhen’s head was slightly bowed, her cheeks smooth and pale, her brows like a painting, long lashes casting shadows over vibrant green eyes full of vitality.

She was beautiful as a blooming flower. Sitting still, she appeared gentle and quiet.

Yet from her emanated an aloof and weary aura, at times sharp and cold—this contradiction made her seem distant and hard to approach.

At this moment, she smiled sweetly, like the moon emerging from clouds, as if all flowers had blossomed at once.

Xiao Yu silently raised his hand to his mouth, “...Hmm, it really is sweet.”